


Anastasis

by SharkGirl



Series: EmiMike Week 2017 [6]
Category: Hybrid Child (Anime & Manga), Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hybrid Child, Alternate Universe - Not Human, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Day 6, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff and Angst, He's not human, Hybrid Child AU, Implied Sexual Content, Italiano | Italian, Kissing, M/M, Major Character Injury, emimikeweek2017, minor blood, Česky | Czech
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 00:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9409892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkGirl/pseuds/SharkGirl
Summary: If Sara wanted someone to grow up with her and give her unconditional love…couldn’t that be him?He scowled, sulking as he stared out the window. “Stupid doll…” he muttered.And from that moment on, Michele developed a severe distaste for the androids.Written for EmiMike Week 2017Day 6:  He's Not Human





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this work was originally written to be posted during [EmiMike Week](https://emimikeweek.tumblr.com/) for the prompt "He's Not Human," but...I can't wait. I'm sorry!!  
>  **EDIT:** I'm re-sharing it for Day 6 (two months later, haha)
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [Niri](http://cerberosthehellguard.tumblr.com/) and the awesome [Andrea](http://fuckyourdokis.tumblr.com)~♡  
> Italian and Czech translations by the fantastic [Nerily](http://nerily.tumblr.com/) and the amazing [Nunii-chan](http://nunii-chan.tumblr.com/), respectively.  
> Please enjoy!!

A Hybrid Child.  An amazing android that was neither fully human nor fully machine with the ability to grow if lavished with enough love and care from its owner.  Created during the late Meiji Era in Japan, the dolls were priceless, sold only to the wealthiest of customers.

But, with the passage of time, the death of the inventor, and the expiration of the patent, they began to be produced en masse.  Global interest piqued when foreigners traveled to Japan.  And, by the end of the twentieth century, Hybrid Child models were available for sale all across Asia and Europe.

It was nearly Christmas in the year 2002, when, in the show window of a store in a popular shopping district in Chieti, the Crispino twins saw a Hybrid Child for the first time.

“Wow!” Sara gaped, her small nose pressed up against the window and her breath fogging the glass.  Michele rolled his eyes at her immature behavior.  He crossed his arms over his chest, still panting a bit from having had to chase her clear across the shopping mall after she squealed and ran off toward something that caught her eye.  Clearly it was the doll.  “It looks so real!”

“Of course it does, _Signorina_.” A man in a suit approached them, a smile on his face, but a shifty look in his eye.  Of course, that was how Michele saw any man eyeing his baby sister.  He was only eight, but he was well aware of how cute his Sara was and he’d be damned if he’d let some creepy, suit-clad old guy take her without a fight.

As it turned out, the man in the suit wasn’t interested in flirting with his younger sister, but instead, he sought to educate them about the doll with which she’d become so enamored.

“Hybrid Child,” Sara repeated as if testing the words on her tongue. “And they can grow up?”

“Just the same as you and me,” the man replied with a smirk.

“Sara! Michele!” Their father called as he weaved his way through the crowd of people busy rushing to get their last-minute Christmas gifts. When he finally reached them, he bent over, trying to catch his breath. “I told you to wait by the fountain,” he said, placing his hands on Michele’s shoulders.

“I _was_ ,” he exclaimed. “But Sara ran off and I couldn’t leave her alone.” He puffed his chest out with pride. “It’s my job to protect her.”

His father’s shoulders sagged and he nodded, still out of breath. “Yes, you’re right, Michele. Thank you.”

“Ah, so you’re responsible for these two,” the salesman said, his cheesy smirk returning.

“Yes. I’m sorry for any trouble they may have caused.” Signor Crispino stood up and gave a quick, apologetic bob of his head.

“Oh, no trouble at all,” the man insisted. “It just seems like the _principessina_ was interested in my product here.” He tapped the glass, but the doll remained motionless, its eyes closed and its mouth in a relaxed pout.

“Isn’t it beautiful, _Papà?_ ” She finally tore her gaze away from the figure.

“It is.” Their father looked uneasy. “But that’s awfully large and expensive-looking for a doll, _Tesoro_ ,” he soothed, awaiting a tantrum that may or may not erupt.  Sara was a good girl, but once she got something into her head, she was just as stubborn as Michele could be – or, at least, that’s what his parents would say.

“Ah, but it is not merely a doll, _Signore_.” The be-suited man interrupted. “This here is a Hybrid Child, an android designed to grow and age just as a human child would,” he stated, looking rather pleased with his description. “These were sold only to the richest families in Asia before their Japanese creators finally released them to-”

“So, it’s an import?” Signor Crispino raised an eyebrow and then turned toward his children. “Sara, wouldn’t you rather have a nice _Marigio_ porcelain doll?” he asked. “They’re very lifelike and would fit on the shelf in your room.”

“No, those are creepy!” Sara pouted up at him, stomping her foot. “Not like this doll.” She spun around and faced the Hybrid Child again.  It had short hair and rather plain clothes, so Michele couldn’t figure out for the life of him what she saw in the thing.

“What’s the big deal?” he finally asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the glass beside Sara.

“The ‘big deal,’ _ragazzo_ , is that this android is the top of the line and matures based on the amount of love it receives from its owner,” the salesman answered. “It moves, it talks, it can do chores around the house, and down the line,” he paused, looking only at their father, “it can do _other_ things, as well.”

“I appreciate your pitch, but I assure you that we’re not interested.” Signor Crispino bent down and grabbed his daughter’s shoulders, turning her toward the direction from which they’d come. “ _Buona giornata_ ,” he threw back as he directed Sara through the crowd, Michele following close behind.

Michele just caught sight of the salesman scoffing before he faced forward, jogging a bit to keep up with his father’s longer strides.  When they were far enough away, they slowed down.

“Now, where did your mother go?” the older man asked, sounding exhausted.

“I really wish I could have gotten that doll,” Sara lamented to Michele as they walked side by side.

“Why? So it can clean your room for you?” he asked with a snicker.

“No,” she answered, sticking out her tongue before turning her nose up. “Because I think it’s romantic.”

“Ro…what?” Michele was taken aback. What was she going on about?

“Imagine? Growing up with someone always beside you?” She sighed dreamily, batting her eyelashes. “Being closer with them than to anyone else?”

Michele glowered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “You already have me, you know,” he mumbled under his breath, but she heard it anyway.

“That’s not the same!” she protested, shaking her head before adding with a roll of her eyes, “ _Boys…_ ”

They eventually found their mother and made their way back to the car, Sara going on and on about the _amazing_ Hybrid Child they saw in the shop window.  Thankfully, neither one of their parents entertained the idea of her ever getting one, but it still didn’t sit well with Michele.

If Sara wanted someone to grow up with her and give her unconditional love…couldn’t that be him?  He scowled, sulking as he stared out the window.

“Stupid doll…” he muttered.  And from that moment on, Michele developed a severe distaste for the androids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an FYI, this work is complete, but I didn't want to upload everything at once, since it went a bit long, haha.
> 
>  **Translations:**  
>  _Signorina_ \- Little Miss  
>  _Signor/Signore_ \- Mister/Sir  
>  _Principessina_ \- Little Princess  
>  _Tesoro_ \- Treasure/Sweetheart  
>  _Ragazzo_ \- Boy  
>  _Buona giornata_ \- Good day.
> 
> Let me know what you think and hit me up on tumblr [@jubesy](http://jubesy.tumblr.com)!


	2. He's Not Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michele discovers Emil's secret.

**Present Day**

Because Hybrid Child models were extremely expensive, it was rare to see one outside of television programs featuring the rich and famous.  Even Victor Nikiforov, the five-time gold medal winner and Russia’s National Hero didn’t have one.  So, Michele didn’t give them much thought.

And Sara, who used to be obsessed with the idea of getting one – even going as far as putting all of her other dolls up for sale online just to be able to afford the down payment – finally seemed to have given up her childhood dream and began to focus more on figure skating.

“You were lovely on the ice, as always, Sara,” Michele said to her as they made their way down the hall and away from the kiss and cry.  She nodded, but didn’t say anything.

The women’s singles were just wrapping up and soon it would be his turn to perform his free program.  This year, he was going for the gold.  He definitely wanted to win the Grand Prix Final, for Sara and Italy.

“Mickey!”

He cringed.  If he could avoid any and all distractions.

“Hey, Mickey!” Emil called again, running down the hallway, his skates swinging from where they hung over his shoulder. “Mickey, I said!” He waved both arms cheerfully.

“I heard you the _first_ time,” Michele hissed, grinding his teeth.

“Great job, Sara!” he congratulated her, seemingly impervious to Michele’s obvious agitation. “You were like an angel on the ice! Very lovely!”

Michele glared at him.  How dare he!  How dare he prance around all sunshine and rainbows and then speak to his Sara with such familiarity.  Even if they _had_ known each other for a few years now, it wasn’t proper.  No man should be allowed within ten feet of his precious baby sister, least of all Czech men who have nothing but cheer.  There was something suspicious about people who were happy _all_ the time.

“So, are you ready, Mickey?” Emil asked, throwing an arm over his shoulder only to have Michele immediately duck out from under it. “Right, sorry!” he apologized with a boisterous laugh.

“The men’s free skate will begin shortly,” an announcer’s voice came over the loud speaker.

“Ah, it’s almost time.” Emil blinked, looking up at the television screen hanging on the wall. “Shall we head to the-”

“Come, Sara.” Michele ignored him, taking his sister’s arm and leading her back toward the ice.  It wasn’t that he disliked Emil.  It was nothing personal, really.  It was just that the other man was so damn persistent.  Always trying to get close to Sara.

They made their way toward the curtain, but Sara stopped short.  Michele turned, mouth opening to ask what was wrong, but she started on him, barely giving him a chance.  He wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, but suddenly she was telling him off.

“I’m not every woman in the world,” she went on, startling him from his daze. “You need to get out more!”

What was she saying?  Where was this coming from?  Hadn’t she just been escorting him to the ice? And what was she going on about?  He didn’t need any other women.  What a ridiculous thing to say!

Michele leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her tightly. “I don’t need any other woman but you, Sara,” he assured her.  Clearly she was just concerned that she was monopolizing him.  That wasn’t the case at all!  Didn’t she know that she was the only reason he could focus on skating?  The reason he’d come this far?  “Don’t leave me alone, please!”

“Become strong, Michele Crispino!” she ordered, gripping his chin and hauling him up from his hunched position. “I can skate without your love,” she began and then, without hesitating, added, “and I’ll start dating!”

Michele felt his world crumble around him.  What was Sara saying?  Now that she was done obsessing over getting a Hybrid Child, she was seriously considering leaving him?  Was he not a suitable replacement?  Could he not fill that void in her life the way she filled his?

Scenes from their childhood flashed before him.  Hadn’t he always been there for her?  Protected her?  Was that not enough? Was _he_ not enough?  But, that was it, wasn’t it?  Hadn’t she always been looking for something else?  Someone else to be by her side?  Ever since the day she’d stared longingly at the lifeless doll behind the glass of that shop in the plaza.

When he finally came back to himself, he’d somehow managed to trudge forward, through the curtain and toward the ice.  Emil was in the middle of his program, launching himself into an impressive quadruple loop.  It was perfect.

“So far, we’ve seen four flawless quads!” the announcer proclaimed excitedly and Michele’s first thought was, ‘He’s not human.’  How could he be?  With his boundless energy and perpetual smile.  His happy-go-lucky nature and endless enthusiasm.  Was he Sara’s type?  He was always sticking to her like glue.  What if they were secretly-

But Michele’s thoughts were interrupted when Emil fell, landing hard on his right hand.  It was difficult to hear over the music, but Michele could swear he heard something snap.

Emil got back up and continued his program, skipping the combination and moving on.  He failed to complete another combo, but he didn’t stop.  He kept going until the end, though, by the time he finished, he looked exhausted.  No, not exhausted.  But…in pain?

Then Michele heard his name over the loud speaker.  It was his turn.  He’d worry about Emil later.

He completed his free skate flawlessly.  It was strange, but letting go of Sara made him feel free in a way he’d never felt before.  He still loved her.  He’d always love her.  And he’d always protect her.  But he understood what she meant now, about neither _needing_ the other to perform their best.  And when she came to see him after his performance, it was nice, but not necessary.

When she pulled away from their hug, she smiled up at him and then blinked, glancing over his shoulder as if looking for someone.

“Sara?”

“Where did Emil go?” she asked. “Wasn’t he cheering for you?”

No.  He hadn’t been.  Which was odd, since Emil always seemed to hang around, ready to congratulate him on a job well done. 

“His fall looked pretty bad,” she continued, chewing on her thumb nail. “I hope he’s alright.”

Michele found himself thinking the same thing.  The way Emil had landed.  It hadn’t looked good.  But it wasn’t his job to babysit the other man.  “I’m sure he’s-”

“You should go check on him,” she suggested.

“Sara, I really don’t think that’s-”

“Michele Crispino!” she chastised him. “After all Emil has done for you, you’re going to ignore him when he might need your help?”  Maybe she was blowing things out of proportion, but Michele dared not argue with her.  She had that Crispino stubborn streak – though, their father had often called it the De Luca stubborn streak, after their mother’s maiden name, but never in front of her, of course.

“ _Bene_ ,” he said, not wanting to argue with her. “I’ll go check on him.”

“Good.” She beamed. “Oh.” She turned back toward the ice. “Seung-gil’s starting. Later!” she called over her shoulder as she ran back to her seat, leaving him alone once more.  But this time, it didn’t hurt.  In fact, he was still feeling sort of numb and, in that state of numbness, he made his way toward the main thoroughfare.

There were skaters, coaches, and media personnel alike watching the televisions, but no Emil.  He quickened his pace.  It wasn’t that he was particularly worried or anything.  Emil always tended to bounce back.  But it was odd that he hadn’t bounded up to him with his usual cheery smile.

Michele turned own an empty hallway and was about to give up and return to the arena when he heard a muffled curse.  He looked back and saw that one of the doors was open a crack, a tiny sliver of light pouring out of it and into the darkened hallway.

He wasn’t sure if Emil was in there, but he might as well check.  If he returned to Sara’s side without news about the other skater, she’d probably scold him again and he was in no mood.

As he approached the door, he could hear the voice inside more clearly.  It definitely sounded like Emil.

“ _Sakra!_ ” the other man shouted, sounding panicked. “ _Takový nepořádek_ ,” he went on, with a hint of irritation Michele had never heard before in his voice.  Whatever was going on, Michele knew it had to be bad if the other was holed up like that.  He took a deep breath and opened the door the rest of the way, hoping the injury wasn’t as severe as he thought.

“Hey, Emil, are you-” but he froze, eyes going wide as he took in the man before him.  Emil’s right arm was injured alright.  It was wide open.  The skin of his wrist was pulled away, revealing wires of red, black, and blue.  And an odd red liquid that was far too thick to be blood was running down his arm in rivulets before pooling on the ground at his feet. “You’re…” he began before blurting out the rest. “You’re one of _them_?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, got the prologue and the first chapter posted. Please look forward to the rest!  
> As always, let me know what you think and hit me up on tumblr [@jubesy](http://jubesy.tumblr.com)!
> 
>  **Translations:**  
>  _Bene_ \- Good/Fine  
>  _Sakra_ \- Damn  
>  _Takový nepořádek_ \- What a/Such a mess


	3. The Clinic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michele visits his first Hybrid Child repair shop and it's not at all what he expected.

Emil, the annoying skater from the Czech Republic who was always within earshot.  Emil, who had stuck to his and Sara’s sides from the moment he debuted.  Emil, who was his _friend_.  He was…a machine?  One of the Hybrid Child dolls that Michele despised?

Michele felt betrayed.  He felt-

“Mickey!” Emil stared at him, frightened, his blue eyes impossibly wide. “Please don’t tell anyone!” he begged, voice verging on hysterics. “Please, Mickey. They won’t let me skate anymore if they find out!”

Michele quickly closed the door, sealing them both in the room.  He didn’t know what to do.  But he certainly didn’t want someone walking in on them like this.  What if they thought he was in on it and that he’d been hiding Emil’s status?  Wouldn’t he be disqualified?

Emil was clutching his arm to his chest, the dark fluid staining the front of his leotard.  With pleading eyes, he inched toward Michele, but then stopped, gaze dropping to the floor.

“How?” Michele asked, causing Emil to snap his head up.

“What?”

“How were you able to hide it?” he went on. “Does your coach know?”

“He…doesn’t,” Emil admitted. “My owner was the only one.”

Owner.  Not father.  Not mother.  Owner.  Because Emil wasn’t human.

“Was?” Michele asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s the one who got me into figure skating,” he explained. “Before he…died.”

Okay, so Michele had just received a lot of information that he needed to process.  Emil wasn’t human.  Alright, check.  He was a Hybrid Child who had once had an owner, but said owner was now deceased.  Okay.  Emil was competing against humans when he technically had no business doing so.

“You’re cheating,” Michele said, narrowing his eyes at him.

“I’m not really,” Emil replied. “I…I’m not built for this or anything,” he clarified. “We’re not created to perform any one task better than the others.”

Oh.  So he wasn’t programmed to execute quads perfectly.  That made Michele feel a bit better.  It was then that he noticed that Emil was shaking.

“Does that…uh.” He looked down at Emil’s arm. “Does that hurt?”

“No.” He shook his head. “We don’t,” he stopped and continued. “I don’t feel pain.”

They stood there like that for a while, Emil slightly hunched over and gripping his leaking, wire-filled wrist and Michele ramrod straight, unsure what to do next.

“I’ve…” Emil began, swallowing. “I’ve lost a lot of fluid.”

Michele didn’t know what he was doing.  His body started moving on its own.  He quickly took off his jacket and used it to wrap Emil’s arm.  “Where can we go?”

“There’s a repair place in town, but.” He eyed the door nervously. “I’m afraid they’ll find out.” He bit his lower lip, looking more vulnerable than Michele had ever seen him. “I’ve always taken care of myself. I can’t believe this.” He looked down at his broken wrist, covered by Michele’s jacket.

“Feel sorry for yourself later,” Michele said, pulling Emil’s hood over his head. “We’ll sneak you out one of the back doors and have you back before they announce who made the podium.”

“There won’t be enough time,” Emil hissed as they walked out the door, Michele slightly ahead so he could make sure the hallway was still empty.

“Then we’ll go after,” he decided. “But you have to make an appearance or people are going to get suspicious.” He frowned down at his wrapped arm. “Do you have a change of clothes?”

It took some doing, but Emil was able to hide his injury from the others, which was a good thing because Michele had managed to snag third place, though it wasn’t enough to gain him entry to the Grand Prix Final.  Not this year.

After the ceremony, he left Sara’s side.  She should have been suspicious, but she must have assumed her words had gotten through to him.  Together, he and Emil sneaked out, managing to avoid the press, and made their way to the repair shop.

Michele didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been the dingy facility with one sliding glass door that barely opened without assistance from the one requesting entry.  The place was a dump.  But the woman behind the counter hadn’t questioned them when they showed up with fluid-soaked jackets and surgical masks covering their faces.

They were immediately led back to an examination room.  It almost looked like a regular doctor’s office, if not for the wires and vials of strange liquids adorning the shelves.  After a few minutes of the two sitting in silence, the doctor came in.  Or the repair woman. Whatever they were called.

“Let’s have a look,” she said, setting her clipboard down.  She seemed nice enough and Emil must have trusted her, because he slipped his jacket off and unwrapped his injured arm. It was worse than Michele had remembered.  The skin looked like it had been torn away. “Oh my,” the woman tutted and looked Michele directly in the eye. “How could you let your unit end up like this?”

“My…” Michele gaped. “He’s not my…I mean, I’m not-”

“He’s a friend,” Emil explained for him. “My owner was not able to escort me.”

“I see,” she said, sounding suspicious, but went about her business. “You shouldn’t have ripped it like this.” She tugged at a flap of the synthetic skin and Michele felt his stomach churn at the sight of it. “What were you thinking?”

“One of my tubes burst and I was afraid it would flood my systems,” Emil admitted, talking like it was completely normal, like he hadn’t _just_ been a human in Michele’s eyes less than an hour earlier.

“Still…” She sighed and shook her head. “But the repair should be simple enough.” She grabbed some horrifying-looking tools from a bag on the counter and got to work.  Michele remembered Emil saying that he didn’t feel pain, but that didn’t stop him from feeling it vicariously for him.  Sara used to tease him all the time for how squeamish he was, but he was justified, given his current view.

The woman cut the torn flesh away and made a nice, rectangular opening.  She found the leak and quickly repaired it.  Then she grabbed a pouch of liquid and attached it to a tube, letting it empty like the IV of saline Sara had to get once as a child because of dehydration.  Michele had thrown up when he saw the doctor insert the needle into Sara's arm back then, but he managed to keep his lunch down now.

When the pouch was empty, she removed the tube and a nurse came in with a strip of some sort of thick, rubbery fabric which very nearly matched the tone of Emil’s skin.  Michele’s stomach roiled again when he realized what it was supposed to be.  She placed it over the wound and pulled out a tool that sparked when she pressed a button.

Michele had seen enough.  He looked away for that part, lest he’d spill the contents of his stomach all over the floor of the clinic.

“Finished,” the woman said and wiped the sweat from her brow. “You’ll have to cover it until it completely cures, but then you’ll be as good as new.” She cracked her neck and walked toward the door. “Leave your owner’s information at the front desk and have a pleasant evening.”

Emil did as he was told and Michele followed silently behind him.  Well, he could certainly check that off of the list of things he never planned on doing and would never do again.  But at least Emil was okay now.

“So…aren’t you going to get in trouble when they find out you don’t have an owner?” Michele asked, wondering if it was okay to skip out on the bill.  Hybrid Child androids were expensive.  He could only imagine how much it cost to repair one.

“It’ll be fine,” Emil said, almost sounding like his usual self again. “He left me quite a bit in his will, so…” He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head.

“Oh,” was all Michele managed.  He hadn’t really thought of that, but, then again, there were reports of people _marrying_ their Hybrid Child, so he shouldn’t have been surprised.  They walked the rest of the way back toward the hotel in silence.  Every so often, Michele would glance over at Emil, wanting to say something, but unsure what.

The awkward moment was interrupted by the shrill beeping of Michele’s phone.  He fished it out of his pocket and saw a new text from Sara.  He opened it and nearly screamed.

“Over my dead body!” he roared and Emil turned wide eyes on him.

“Mickey, what?”

“Sara said not to go up to the room because she’s got someone with her,” he growled, ready to kill the man.  Hadn’t Sara only _just_ said that she would start dating?  Was her initial instinct to invite the first sleazy man she met up to their hotel room?

His message tone went off again.  But he didn’t even want to look at it, so he threw his phone at Emil, who was just barely quick enough to catch it.

“Mickey,” Emil began with a laugh as he read the text. “You need to relax.”

“I’ll relax when he’s six feet under!” Michele spat, already thinking of what he had in his room that could be used as a weapon, along with how to dispose of the body.

“Mickey, calm down.” Emil threw an arm over his shoulder, finally sounding like the annoyingly happy man Michele knew. “It’s just Mila.” He held up the phone and displayed the message.

“Oh,” Michele said again, feeling rather foolish.  He snatched his phone back, but didn’t pull away from Emil’s embrace. “She could have said that in the first place.”

“I suppose she probably wanted to tease you a bit,” the other offered with a grin. “So…” He wet his lips, looking down at his shoes. “You need a place to stay tonight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh ho ho~
> 
> No translations for this chapter.  
> I hope you're all liking it so far! ^^


	4. Malfunction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emil spills everything and Michele vows to keep his secret.

Emil’s hotel room looked exactly like Michele and Sara’s, save for the takeout boxes that littered every surface.  He wasn’t even aware that a Hybrid Child needed to eat, let alone consume the amazing amount Emil had.

“Sorry for the mess,” Emil apologized, taking armfuls of the containers and tossing them into the tiny excuse for a trash bin in the corner. “So,” he began, plopping down on his bed, “I guess we should talk about what happened tonight, huh?”

Michele looked at him, _really_ looked at him.  He knew for a fact that Emil was a Hybrid Child.  He’d seen it with his own eyes.  The wires, the fake skin.  But it still didn’t seem right.  Not when Emil was sitting on his bed, gazing up at him and looking so…human.

“Start from the beginning,” Michele said, not making eye contact as he sat down beside him, the springs of the mattress whining under their combined weight. “And don’t leave anything out.”

So, Emil told him about how he was purchased by his owner.  How the man was older, unwed, and childless, and how his only wish had been for a son.  “Funny how a Czech is telling an Italian his own version of Pinocchio,” he offered awkwardly and Michele almost laughed.  He went on to talk about ice skating and that it was his owner’s favorite thing to do with him.

He didn’t cry.  Not even when he was talking about his owner’s death.  Michele wasn’t sure what kind of emotions he could feel, but maybe crying was something that wasn’t physically possible for him.  He did look sad, though.

“So, you skate for him?” Michele asked, understanding what that was like.

“No.” Emil shook his head with a small smile. “It started out that way, but…I skate for myself,” he explained. “The way I feel when I’m on the ice…” he trailed off dreamily. “It makes me feel alive.” He looked down at his lap, his fingers loosely laced and the white of his bandage starkly contrasting with the dark fabric of his pants. “Like I’m real.”

Michele hesitantly reached out and brushed his fingertips over Emil’s wrist and up his arm, trailing them lightly over the other’s shoulder.

“Mickey, what are you-”

“You feel real,” Michele said, pressing his fingers into Emil’s cheek.  It was soft and warm. “I thought you were supposed to be cold or something.”  He remembered Sara mentioning something about how a Hybrid Child’s internal temperature was much lower than a human’s when she was talking about them nonstop.

“Oh, I, uh,” Emil looked sheepish as his gaze shifted to the hand touching his cheek. “I’ve always run a little hot.” He swallowed. “That’s why I only do things like skating and snowboarding,” he went on. “Otherwise, I’d overheat.”

Emil felt like he was overheating now, so Michele pulled his hand back, still amazed at how _human_ the other felt.  Before he could think better of it, he reached back up and gave Emil’s beard a tug.

“What about this?” he asked.

“What about it?” Emil raised his brows.

“Do all Hybrid Children-”

“Hybrid Childs,” Emil corrected and Michele stared at him. “The plural is-”

“Yeah, okay.” He rolled his eyes. “Do all Hybrid _Childs_ grow facial hair?”

“Ah, that was an add-on,” Emil said, puffing his chest out proudly. “Makes me look cool, doesn’t it?” he asked, flashing his teeth. “We can be programmed to grow our hair long, too,” he said, fingering one of his wavy curls, for once not heavily laden with product. “But I’d rather not have to worry about cutting it.” He laughed.

Michele suddenly found himself wondering if they could grow hair in other places, too.  But he stopped the thought before it could fully form.  Shaking his head, he continued, “So, you’ve hidden it all this time?”

“Yes.” Emil nodded. “The world is a dangerous place for the master-less.” He sighed. “Besides, my owner died in the middle of last season, so it wasn’t like I could just out myself as an android, you know?” He lowered his gaze. “I understand if you feel like you need to tell the officials. But if you could wait until after nationals, I’d be-”

“I won’t tell,” Michele interrupted him.

Emil looked up, hopeful. “You won’t?”

“I won’t tell,” he said again, surprising himself.  He really should.  Figure skating was a human sport.  Emil had no place there.  But the thought of not sharing the ice with his long-time competitor and friend was…sad.  It just wouldn’t be right. “But if you get caught, I’ll deny that I ever knew,” he added, just so the other understood.

“Of course!” Emil threw himself at him, trapping him in a bone-crushing hug.  And now Michele knew why the other was so heavy, what with his metal infrastructure and all. “Thank you, Mickey!”

“Yeah, yeah, just…let go…” he wheezed.

 

Somehow, everything went well.  Emil had plenty of time to ‘heal’ from his injury and everyone just figured he’d sprained his wrist.  That was normal.  That was human.  Sara _did_ point out that Michele and Emil seemed to be getting along better, but it was just because Michele was the only one who knew his secret.  He felt obligated to stay by the other’s side.  Plus, he was interested in Emil.  He’d spent so long avoiding the subject of the androids, that he was honestly curious about them.

“So, you really eat,” Michele asked one day as he was lying on the other’s bed in his hotel room.

“Yes, I eat.” Emil snorted.

“Like…a lot,” he added, eyeing yet another mountain of takeout containers.

“I like trying new things,” Emil replied with a shrug. “What’s living without being adventurous?” He beamed, holding up a pair of chopsticks with something not immediately identifiable pinched between them.

They were in Japan for an invitational before the official start of the season.  Victor ‘The World’s Greatest Skater and Now the World’s Greatest Coach’ Nikiforov had returned to the ice and the competition was sure to be fierce.  Michele definitely wanted to secure his spot in the GPF this year.

“So, you just go around trying everything?” he asked, raising his brows.

“Well, not _everything_ ,” Emil snickered and popped the food into his mouth before looking away, his cheeks tinting.  The two had certainly grown closer over the past few months.  Michele stopped thinking of the other as annoying and found his cheerfulness rather charming.  He spent more time in the other’s hotel room than his own and was often found by his side more than Sara’s.

“Anyway,” Michele cleared his throat, “We should head downstairs.”

They were competing on Katsuki’s home turf and Michele had something to prove.  He was excited.  His entire program was much more challenging than in years past.  He’d shown parts of it to Emil during video chats, but this was the first time the other would get to see his full performance.

“I have a good feeling about this season,” Emil said as they walked out of the elevator.  They made their way through the crowd, the other waving when he spotted Sara and Mila up ahead.  All four walked through the curtain together and Michele felt the usual bubbling of pre-show excitement in his chest.  He couldn’t wait to show Emil what he’d been working on.

His performance was far from flawless, but it was executed well for it being the first time before judges.  And he had plenty of time to perfect it before the season officially began.

“Nice job out there, Mickey!” Emil clapped him on the back, almost sending him tumbling forward. “Oops, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Michele said, using the other’s shoulder as a crutch to pull himself back up. “Now, get out there and one-up me, right?”

Emil’s smile stretched from ear to ear and he nodded enthusiastically. “You got it, Mickey!” He was all sunshine and rainbows again as he glided out to the middle of the ice and awaited the start of his music.

“Well, aren’t _we_ getting along well?” Sara mused, suddenly right next to Michele.

“Sara!” he gasped before being hushed by the camera crew. “What are you doing here?" he hissed. "I thought you went up to the stands.”

“I came to congratulate my big brother on a lovely performance,” she said, leaning her elbow on the barricade and resting her chin in her palm. “But it seems someone has beaten me to it.” She gestured toward Emil and then looked up at Michele with big, violet eyes.

“What?” Michele asked, averting his gaze.

“Nothing,” she sang, standing up and bracing herself on the barrier. “Just wondering when the two of you will finally share your little secret.” She batted her eyelashes.

No.  There was no way she could have possibly known.  Michele hadn’t told a soul and Emil had been really careful.  But she looked so sure of herself.  He leaned beside her, his eyes on Emil as the other man landed a perfect quad.

“How much do you know?” he asked.

“Know?” she replied innocently. “I don’t _know_ anything,” she said. “But I have my suspicions.”

Shit. Shit shit shit.  Of _course_ , she knew. She was practically an expert on all things Hybrid Child.  She’d probably known longer than Michele.  Now he just needed to figure out how to perform damage control before the entirety of the skating community knew.

“What will your silence cost?” he asked, still watching as Emil glided across the ice. Sara opened her mouth, but he continued. “He doesn’t want anyone to know.” He watched her blink rapidly in his periphery. “You understand.”

“I…don’t, actually.” She frowned. “You’re more reserved than he is. I figured he’d want to shout it from the rooftops,” she said.

“What?” He turned to face her. “Why would he want to-”

But a collective gasp from the audience drew their attention away from their conversation.  Both Crispinos snapped their heads forward.  There, in the middle of the ice, was Emil, facedown and motionless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter before bed, hehe. ^^
> 
> Let me know what you think and hit me up on tumblr [@jubesy](http://jubesy.tumblr.com)!


	5. Owner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michele makes a vow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I was a good girl and I finished writing my [side fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9444941) and posted it and everything, so now I'm allowed to update this one (^3^)/  
> Please enjoy~

Michele’s legs were moving before the other’s name burst forth from his lips.  He ran onto the ice, not bothering to take off his blade guards.  He stumbled, tripping over his own feet and fell to his knees, crawling the rest of the way toward the other man.

“Emil!” He shook his shoulder. “Emil!” Sara was right behind him, her hands covering her mouth in shock. “ _Svegliati!_ ” But the other didn’t respond.  Michele couldn’t tell if he was breathing, couldn’t remember if he even needed to breathe. “ _Rispondimi_ , Emil, _ti prego_ …”

“Sir, please give us room,” a voice floated in from somewhere nearby.  Then there was a gloved hand on Michele’s shoulder, moving him out of the way.  The medical staff had rushed onto the ice.  They moved Emil, careful not to jostle him, and placed him onto a stretcher.

Michele could only watch as they took him away.  It was over.  They’d know.  The moment they took his vitals, they’d know.  Emil wouldn’t be allowed to skate anymore.  Michele wouldn't be able to protect him.

“Mickey.” Sara grabbed his hand and pulled him forward. “Let’s catch up to them!”

His legs felt like jelly as he followed behind her.  Emil would be disqualified, but, more than that, what if he never woke up?  What if the last thing he said to him was, ‘one-up me?’  What if he never got to see the other’s dazzling smile again?  What if?

Sara dragged him over to the ambulance, but the staff wouldn’t let them go inside.

“Please, you don’t understand!” she all but screamed at them. “He _has_ to go with him.”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but we can only allow family to-”

“But my brother is his boyfriend!” she shouted and then everything froze for a second.  Michele slowly turned his head toward her, but she didn’t seem to pay him any mind. “If his coach can go with him, then so can he!”

“Fine, but hurry up.” The paramedic stepped to the side to allow Michele entry.  Sara practically shoved him into the back of the ambulance.  His cloudy vision finally came into focus when he spotted Emil on the stretcher, lifeless.  His coach was bent over him, spouting a slew of Czech words that Michele couldn’t understand. “Sit here, please, Sir,” the medic directed him and he did as he was told.

The ride to the hospital wasn’t as long as he thought it would be.  In fact, they’d barely traveled at all before the ambulance came to a halt.  Then the medic and his EMT opened the doors and pulled the stretcher out.  Emil’s coach followed after them as Michele struggled to disembark on wobbly legs.

When he finally stepped foot out of the ambulance, he looked up at where the hospital should be.  But it wasn’t a hospital at all.  It was a repair shop not unlike the one he and Emil had visited when he’d injured himself back in Russia months earlier.  But this clinic was much nicer, probably because Japan had been servicing the dolls for longer and much more frequently than the rest of the world.

But, if they weren’t at a hospital, that meant-

A man in a white lab coat came out of the sliding glass doors. “What’s his condition?”

“Unresponsive,” the medic replied. “We tried a hard reboot in the ambulance, but his entire system is frozen.”

“Let’s take him inside and get a proper look,” the doctor said.  Michele tried to follow after them, but he and the coach were stopped at the doors. “There will be too many people in the room,” the man told them. “Go around the building to the non-emergency entrance and wait in the lobby. A nurse will direct you.”

And then they were left alone.

Michele turned toward Emil’s coach, wondering what he thought of all of this.  But the other man didn’t seem shocked in the slightest.  Suddenly it clicked.  He _knew_.

Together, they walked to the other set of double doors.  Emil was where he needed to be, where they could help him.  All that was left to do was wait.

 

Normally, Michele could handle silences.  Emil always seemed to fill them with his incessant jabbering.  But with no Emil and a heavy awkwardness in the air, he was itching to break the silence in any way he could.  Thankfully, Emil’s coach did it for him.

“He doesn’t know that I know,” he said, eyes trained on his loafers. “But his father told me about his…” he chose the word carefully, “ _condition_ the moment he signed him up for lessons.” He gave a small, sad smile. “I had to get skates specially made for his weight, you know?”

“Yeah,” Michele replied, unsure of what else to say. 

“I promised his father that I’d take care of him,” Emil’s coach used that term again.  Odd that he referred to Emil’s owner in such a way, but Michele dared not correct him. “When I saw him go down on the ice,” he swallowed, “I knew I had to do something or he’d never skate again, so…”

“You called the ambulance?” Michele blinked in surprised.

“Dialed the emergency number and gave the HC code,” he said, pushing back some of his thinning hair. “I couldn’t let the medical staff on site get a look at him. They’d know immediately.” Michele nodded in understanding.  Emil’s coach had saved his career.  Now they could only hope that the doctor could save his life.

“For Nekola-san?” a nurse asked, peeking her head out into the waiting room.  Michele and his coach both stood up. “Please follow me.”

The walk to Emil’s room seemed endless, but they finally made it.  The nurse let them inside and Michele’s breath caught.  Emil was awake.  A little dazed, but he was conscious and even grinning as he spoke with the doctor.  He turned bright blue eyes on Michele and his smile widened.

“Oh, Mickey, I-”

“Don’t you _ever_ do that again!” Michele shouted, rushing forward, not sure if he wanted to hug him or punch him. “You scared the hell out of me, _stronzo_!” He was shaking, but he didn’t realize it until Emil took his hand in his.

“ _Promiň_.” He gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Mickey.”

“My assistant is going to run a few more tests,” the doctor said, clearing his throat. “But first I must discuss something with you. Which one of you is the owner?”

“Oh.” Emil’s coach rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess that would be-”

“Is it about his condition?” Michele interrupted. “What happened? What treatments are there? Will he-”

“Please, come this way.” The doctor motioned for both of them to follow him out into the hallway. “I’ll be frank,” he began. “Your unit went through a complete system failure,” he explained.

“How can that be?” Emil’s coach asked. “He only just turned nineteen.”

“It’s true that this is something we see in much older models.” The man rubbed his chin as he looked over Emil’s chart. “But with Hybrid Child units being mass-produced overseas, we’ve noticed a drastic rise in shortened lifespans.”

Michele felt something cold and icy claw its way up into his chest. “What are you saying?”

“Sometimes the life expectancy of a Hybrid Child is extremely short,” he explained. “It’s hard to tell what the determining factors of his recent lapse were, but, as it stands right now, your unit runs the risk of shutting down completely.”

The room spun as darkness crept in around his vision.  That couldn’t be right.  Emil was young.  Younger than him, even.  There was no way he was even close to dying.  He couldn’t be.  That wasn’t fair.

“What can we do?” Emil’s coach asked, since Michele’s mouth felt like it was full of cotton.

“I’m afraid there aren’t many options,” the doctor said and began listing off fluid transfusions, replacement parts, and a complete system re-calibration.  But the one thing that caught Michele’s attention was, “And, of course, the amount of affection he receives.”

“What?”

“Affection,” he repeated, facing Michele. “Hybrid Child models grow based on the love and care they receive from their owners,” he said. “I’ve seen system failures such as this occur in units that have been abandoned or starved for attention-”

“That’s it!” Michele cried, startling the other two. “Emil ended up like this because he no longer has a owner, right?”

“He doesn’t?” The doctor rubbed his chin. “That would explain the rapid decline in a unit so young.”

“Then…if he had an owner,” Michele swallowed, his heart thudding in his chest, “someone who loved him…could he be saved?”

The older man drew his brows down. “It’s possible, but-”

“Please.” Michele ignored him and turned toward the coach, taking the other’s hands in his. “Please, give Emil to me.”

Because Emil was his previous owner’s sole heir, he wasn’t his coach’s to give. But the other man gave his blessing anyway.  He placed a hand on Michele’s shoulder and smiled. “Take good care of him.”

He walked back into Emil’s room to find the other sitting up in bed, a goofy grin plastered on his face. “Um, Emil-”

“I heard you,” he said, gesturing toward the door with his chin. “Thin walls.”

“Oh.” Michele’s cheeks and ears burned. “Then, uh, if it’s okay with you, would you mind if I…um…” Damn.  What happened to the confidence he’d had in the hallway? “I mean, to me, you’re important and, if you don’t mind-”

“Mickey.” Emil reached out and took his hand. “I don’t want you to do this just because you feel obligated,” he said, brushing his thumb over Michele’s knuckles. “For a long time…longer than I'd care to admit,” he added with an awkward little cough, “I’ve kinda sorta been in love with you, so…”

Michele didn’t have time for an amazing revelation or epiphany.  He didn’t want to waste what precious time they had realizing that, all along, the feelings he had for the other man were more than just friendship and that the soft, lingering touches they shared meant more than he could ever explain.  So, instead, he jumped right into it.

“ _Sii mio_. Be mine, Emil.” He dropped down to his knees beside the bed. “I don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to stay by my side, but I promise to care for and cherish you until then.”

“Mickey…” He bit his lower lip to stifle a laugh. “This is starting to sound kind of morbid.”

“This is serious!” Michele stood back up, but didn’t release his hand. “If love and affection are what you need, then you can have all of mine.” He leaned closer and cupped Emil’s cheek. “If it will save your life, I’ll give you my everything.”

Emil stared at him for a moment before tears began forming in the corners of his eyes, fat droplets dribbling down his cheeks and splattering onto the white sheets pooled around his waist. “Mickey...” he sniffled.

Michele sat down on the edge of the bed and pressed their foreheads together, brushing away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb. “So, you _can_ cry.”

The other snorted and pulled him closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left! (and then the extra/omake)
> 
>  **Translations:**  
>  _Svegliati!_ \- Wake up!  
>  _Rispondimi_ \- Answer me  
>  _ti prego..._ \- Please...  
>  _stronzo_ \- asshole  
>  _Promiň_ \- I'm sorry  
>  _Sii mio._ \- Be mine.


	6. Love and Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks up at the Implied Sexual Content tag* It's time.  
> (though, I hope I'm not overselling it...it's innocent)  
> Also *points to Angst with a Happy Ending tag again*

They spent the rest of the preseason together.  Emil traveled with Michele, whether it was to stop back home and visit his family or to go off to another qualifier, they were inseparable. 

Emil had to drop out of the competition after his ‘accident,’ but his coach explained it away as severe anemia and he promised that, once he was better, he would make his return to the world of figure skating.  No one knew about his secret, save for Michele, his coach, and, inevitably, Sara.  But Sara kept it to herself, too happy for her brother to spill the beans. Though, she did announce to the world that they were dating.

Michele did everything he could think of to romance Emil.  He doted on him, kissed him – not where cameras could snap any shots, of course – and held him close.  But, no matter what he did, Emil didn’t seem to be getting any better.  His movements were slow, sloppy, and, several times, he’d stumble and Michele would have to steady him.

“I don’t know what else I can do for you,” he admitted while the two were lying side by side in their hotel room.  Michele’s free skate wasn’t until the following day and they had planned on watching the women’s short programs so they could cheer for Sara and Mila, but Emil could barely get out of bed.

“Everything you’ve done has been amazing,” Emil said, reaching up and sliding his fingers through Michele’s hair. “I never dreamed you’d ever agree to date me, let alone be the one to ask.” He closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. “Now I can die happy.”

“ _Emil_.” Michele growled, feeling tears stinging the corners of his eyes. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“I’m sorry, Mickey.” He lowered his hand to cup his jaw. “Let me make it up to you,” he whispered, leaning forward and pressing their lips together gently.  Both were completely inexperienced, but kissing was something they recently started to do and Michele found it rather enjoyable. “Better?” Emil asked when they broke apart.

Michele responded with a noncommittal hum.  There was something that had been on his mind for a while now.  Something he wanted to bring up, but he was never sure how to go about it.  He took a deep breath and sat up, fixing Emil with a look.

“There’s something I want to try.”

Emil raised his brows, but he waited for Michele to go on.  It was now or never.  He’d spent long enough thinking about it, _dreaming_ about it.  It was time to speak up.

“Emil,” he began, his throat suddenly dry. “Let’s make love.”

The other man was silent, just staring up at him with impossibly large blue eyes.  Then, slowly, his face turned bright pink.  Michele marveled at it.  He’d seen Emil blush a bit before, but never like this.  He reached forward and touched his cheek, even more surprised when he felt just how hot his skin had become.

“Emil?” he questioned, furrowing his brow when the other still had yet to respond to his offer.

“That’s,” the other gaped, blinking rapidly. “Is that…even possible?”

“Yes, definitely,” Michele answered. “I’ve been doing a lot of research on the subject.”

“You _have?_ ” Emil’s jaw dropped further.

“Well, Sara has a lot of books about it and it’s completely possible for us to – Emil, why are you looking at me like that?” He frowned. The other man was staring at him like he’d grown a second head.

“It’s just…I never thought you’d be the one to read _those_ kinds of books.” Emil shook his head from side to side as he sat up. “Sara, either. I mean, I guess _some girls_ are interested in that sort of thing, but-”

“What are you talking about?” Michele furrowed his brow. “Sara has every Hybrid Child book imaginable.”

Something seemed to click for Emil then and he laughed, slapping a palm to his forehead. “Oh. So, _that’s_ what you meant.”

“What kind of books did you think I was talking about?” Michele asked, frown deepening.

“Never mind.” Emil placed his hands on either side of Michele’s head and pulled him forward so their lips nearly touched. “So, you’ve studied up on the subject?”

“I have.” Michele nodded, his cheeks burning. “I want to do it with you, Emil.” He moved so he was straddling the other’s legs, a knee on either side of his hips. “Is that something you want?”

“Something I…” Laughter bubbled up in Emil's chest and spilled out of his mouth as he wrapped his arms tightly around Michele, pulling him even closer. “I’ve never wanted anything in this world more than I’ve wanted you, Mickey.”

Michele’s face surely must have rivaled a tomato and he was glad that it was currently buried in the crook of Emil’s neck – though the other could probably feel the heat radiating off of it.  He cleared his throat as he pulled back and looked the other in the eye.

The mood in the room suddenly shifted from embarrassed happiness to something much heavier.  Emil stared up at him with half-lidded eyes, his pupils dilated and his cheeks stained a lovely shade of pink.  His hands moved from where they’d been clasped behind Michele’s back, shakily coming to rest on his hips.

“Mickey…”

“Don’t speak.” Michele put a finger to his lips and averted his eyes, his face hotter than ever. “Y-You’ll ruin my concentration.”

“Mickey-”

“Emil!” He put his whole hand over the other’s mouth.  He didn’t want to admit out loud that he was nervous.  If he did, he might not be able to continue and he didn’t think his pride would allow him to bring it up again if he failed now.  But his heart was hammering in his chest and his pulse was racing.  There was a whoosh of warm air against his palm as Emil chuckled.  “What?” Michele asked, pulling his hand away.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Emil said, taking Michele’s hand and kissing each of his fingertips lovingly. “I’m terrified.”

“You…are?” Michele raised his brows.  Mr. Thrill-seeker himself?

“Yeah,” he admitted. “But I want this. I want you. So, so much.” He smiled and Michele’s heart melted. “I love you, Michele Crispino.”

Too embarrassed and flustered to reply, Michele just leaned forward, pressing their lips together in a searing kiss.  He gasped when Emil’s hands returned to his hips and the other man took it as an invitation to deepen the kiss, pulling him closer.

Emil’s mouth tasted like spearmint gum and the cotton candy he just _had_ to have from the concession stand the day before.  He’d bought two bags and saved the second for breakfast.  Michele moaned into the kiss and pressed even closer, but Emil broke away with a gasp, panting as he tried to catch his breath.

“Mickey…I’ll overheat,” he puffed and Michele found that fact both frightening and arousing at the same time.

“Then,” Michele began, pushing Emil onto his back. “Let me do all the work.”

Emil’s eyelids fluttered and his mouth hung open, but then he smiled, snaking his arms around Michele’s middle and giving him a squeeze. “Okay.”

It was awkward, as most first times often are.  But it was amazing.  The feeling of becoming one was indescribable and, even once they were done, lying side by side on the bed, Michele still hadn’t quite recovered from it.

“That was…”

“Amazing,” Emil finished for him. “You were just…wow.”

“Yeah, you, too.” He swallowed, resting his still sweat-dampened cheek on Emil’s chest.  He did find it a little unfair that the other hadn’t gotten nearly as messy as he had.  So he could cry, but not sweat, he supposed.  Just another piece of the puzzle.  Another bit of information he could add to the list of things he’d learned about the anatomy and physiology of a Hybrid Child.  That and the fact that it turned out they _could_ grow hair in other places.

“What are you thinking about?” Emil asked, combing his fingers through Michele’s hair before tracing the shell of his ear.

“You?” he offered, hoping he could get by with that.

“I never knew you could be so cheesy, Mickey,” Emil snorted and pulled him close. “But forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“It _involved_ you,” Michele admitted.

“I guess that’s as good as I’m going to get,” he sighed melodramatically and then craned his neck to kiss the sweaty bangs still plastered to Michele’s forehead. “We should get some sleep.”

“It’s the middle of the day.”

“And you wore me out,” Emil stated.  Michele was going to argue that he’d been the one doing all the work, but when he looked up and saw the other man’s wide grin, his eyes so full of love, he just couldn’t.  Instead, he gave him a quick peck on the lips.  “Mickey?” Emil asked, cheeks suddenly pink.

“I love you, Emil,” he whispered, unable to meet his eyes. “Thank you for today.” He buried his face in the other’s chest.  Emil’s hand stilled where it had been tracing nonsensical patterns into Michele’s skin.  Then the other’s chest vibrated as he spoke, his voice low.

“I love you, too, Mickey.”

 

When Michele awoke sometime later, it was nearly dusk.  The room was dim.  He yawned and gave a stretch before flipping the switch on the bedside lamp, flooding the room with warm, artificial light.  Even though he’d been moving around, Emil hadn’t stirred.

“Emil,” he called, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Emil, we slept too long.” But the other didn’t reply.  With a roll of his eyes, Michele stood up and grabbed his underwear and slipped a shirt over his head.  It's not like they had anywhere to be, but he woke up feeling a little cold.

He returned to the bed and stared down at Emil's slumbering form.

“Going to sleep the day away?” he asked.  He was pretty sure Emil didn’t technically _need_ sleep.  He required times of inactivity, but he could certainly go without dozing through dinner.  “Emil,” he said again, giving his shoulder a shake.  It was then that Michele noticed how cold the other’s skin was, which was odd since Emil’s body temperature tended to run as hot as a human’s.

Panic gripped his chest and he gave Emil another shove, but still, the other did not respond. “Emil!” he shouted, climbing onto the bed and gripping both his shoulders. “Emil!”  It was the scene on the ice all over again, only this time, he was all alone.  He leaned down, pressing his ear to Emil’s chest, trying to listen for a heartbeat or the thrum of whatever it was inside him that kept him going, but Michele’s own heart was thundering so loudly, he couldn’t hear.

He pulled back, tears stinging his eyes.  No.  This wasn’t happening.  Emil was fine.  Any second now, he’d opened those beautiful eyes of his and give a lopsided, goofy smile and ask Michele why he looked so upset.  He had to.  He couldn’t be…gone.

“Emil…” Michele fell forward with a sob, burying his face in his lover’s chest.  His skin was so cold.  “ _Non lasciarmi_ …I love you.”

Suddenly, there was a low sound, a distant whirring noise.  But then it grew louder.  Michele picked his head up just in time to see Emil’s eyes flutter open.  He gave Michele a soft smile before he frowned, his brows knitting together.

“Mickey, why do you look so upset-”

“ _Stronzo!_ ” he cursed, punching him in the chest. “You stupid…” he trailed off, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Don’t _do_ that anymore…”

“Mickey.” Emil sat up and wrapped his arms around him. “What happened?”

“What _happened?_ ” Michele pulled away. “You _died_ ,” he said and then added. “I think.”

“What?” Emil’s eyes widened and he looked down, moving his hands along his body to make sure everything was still in place. “But…I feel fine,” he said, glancing back up. “Actually, I feel better than I have in a long time.”

“But your skin,” Michele hesitantly reached out and brushed his fingers over Emil’s chest. “It’s so cold.”

Emil closed his eyes and then opened them with a smile. “No, my temperature…it’s finally regulated.” He beamed. “Mickey…you fixed me! Your love fixed me!” He pounced on him, Michele feeling every ounce of his weight as he pushed him into the mattress.

“Now who’s…” Michele wheezed, “…cheesy…?” He scoffed when Emil finally let him up.

“But still!” Emil flexed his arms, giving his body another once-over. “I’ve never felt like this before.” He turned loving eyes on Michele. “Your love really _did_ save me!”

Ignoring how hot his face had become, Michele cleared his throat. “We’re still taking you down to the clinic,” he announced, looking anywhere but at the other man. “Just in case.”

“Sure.” Emil reached up, gripping Michele’s chin and tilting his head up. “Thank you, Mickey.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He tried to pull away, but the other held firm.

“I love you.”

The corners of his mouth twitched as he leaned in and pressed his lips to Emil’s, the cool feeling both foreign and refreshing.  He drew back just far enough to speak. “I love you, too, Emil.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D'aww~♥ Dem boys... ^///^  
> There's a short omake/extra to follow. Please stay tuned!
> 
>  **Translations:**  
>  _Non lasciarmi_ \- Don't leave me  
>  _Stronzo!_ \- Asshole!


	7. Omake/Extra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (please read Ch 6 first - in case you saw that this updated and skipped to the most recent chapter...I posted them at the same time) Enjoy!!

Michele stepped out of the shower to find Emil staring at himself in the bathroom mirror.

“Emil, what are you doing?” he asked, slightly annoyed since they were now running behind. “Hurry up and get dressed.”

“Mickey, do I look older to you?” Emil leaned closer to the reflective glass, squinting one eye shut as he inspected his appearance.

“What?”

“I just feel like I look more mature now.”

“It’s the beard.”

“No,” Emil chuckled, “I had that before…” he trailed off, his cheeks tinting pink. “Maybe it’s because you finally made a man out of me,” he offered.

Michele’s face grew hot, glowing almost neon when he caught sight of his reflection. “Emil, d-don’t be ridiculous,” he stammered.  Sure, he knew that a Hybrid Child grew up according to the amount of love they received, but one time certainly wasn’t enough to make a drastic difference in the other’s looks.

“I was just thinking out loud.” Emil turned toward him, a bright smile on his face. “And, for the record, you look different, too.”

“Different?” Michele furrowed his brow. “Different how?”

“You’re even more beautiful than ever,” he said shamelessly, cupping Michele’s cheeks and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Gorgeous.”

A hot flush made its way up Michele’s neck and he shoved the other away. “Just hurry up and get dressed so we can go,” he said, ignoring the other’s jovial laughter.  He looked away, but the memory of Emil’s half-lidded eyes and crooked smile caused something deliciously warm to pool in his belly.  He shook the thought. “You’ve got two minutes,” he added and walked out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

“Yes, Mickey!” Emil called and Michele found himself unable to hold back a smile at the familiar sound.

He was okay.  Some way or another, he was okay.

And, more shocking than that, with a pleasurable tingle of realization, he was his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming with me on this wild ride! I hope you all enjoyed the story~
> 
> Let me know what you think and hit me up on tumblr [@jubesy](http://jubesy.tumblr.com)!


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